V3 Chase
by Laatija
Summary: Detective Sheppard chases down a car thief who isn't exactly what he thought she was... Action plus a small splash of whump for flavor. Chapter Three in the Vegas Series


Disclaimer: No, i don't own stargate.

A/N: Chapter three in the Vegas Series. To know what's going on, it helps to have read at least the last chapter (V2 Fifty One). I've labled the Vegas series so you can find them easily in my profile.

Please remember that the next instalment will be made as a new story. Also, if you have any ideas for future chapters, holla (you'll get credit for the idea, of course)

**Chase**

"Hey! Stop!" John sprinted after a fleeing figure. He pushed his way through the tightly packed gambling crowd and launched over a small pile of luggage in the lobby. His hands wrapped tightly around his hand gun. The smallish running man in front of him slammed headlong into a fat gambler at the slot machines. Both people went down hard but the fugitive just popped back up again. John cursed and pushed forward, leaping over the prone fat man. The jump wasn't exactly as clean as he would have liked. John's foot caught on the blubbery stomach and he fell head long onto the floor. The air whooshed out of his lungs and his gun popped out of his hand and skidded a foot on the carpet. That's when all hell broke loose.

"He has a gun!" someone screamed. Instant mayhem was the result. The crowd surged as one big living organism for the tiny little exits. John fought the urge to curl into a ball and take cover under the craps table. Instead, he pushed and lunged against the crowd. A glance ahead proved that slow going wasn't just his misfortune. The fugitive in front of him was suddenly much closer than before. The man shot a frantic glance over his shoulder. Except…except it wasn't a man. John almost stopped running out of shock. The _woman_'s hood had been knocked backwards in the stampede. Her dark sunglasses were gone. Long, shiny brown hair swung loose now and distinctly feminine eyes met his own for a split second. John suddenly wanted nothing more than to get this chick. He launched onto a blackjack table, ran the length of it, and then jumped onto a nearby craps table. The woman yelled something and pushed through the crowed with renewed strength. John leapt from table and nearly landed on top of a cluster of frantic people. He shoved them aside and ran forward.

By now, the crowd was starting to wane. Already, the woman was through the bulk of the bodies and was sprinting through an emergency exit. John was on her tail and gaining. He slammed into the closing door and nearly tumbled into the dark back alleyway. The fleeing woman was almost to the street.

"Stop! I have a gun and I don't care if you get bullet holes in that jacket!" John yelled. Not the most eloquent of phrases but it got his point across…as did the two warning shots he fired. The woman skidded to a hesitant stop. Her arms were spread wide. "Hands on your head," John barked. "Walk towards me." He waited until she was five feet from him before pulling out the hand cuffs. He kept the gun trained on her midsection. "Hold still," he warned as he approached her. As John pulled one of her hands off her head to snap the cuffs on her wrist, pain suddenly bloomed between his legs. _Knee in the groin, knee in the groin, knee in the freakin' groin! _Instinctively, John curled forward, gasping and cursing. But he didn't let go of her wrist. Even after she punched him solidly in the nose. He actually managed to land a punch of his own. John swung her around by the arm and kicked at the back of her knees. She went down hard, crying out in pain. John wasted no time in wrenching her arms back and slamming the cuffs home.

When she was secure, he moodily pushed her onto her side and then leaned back against the alley wall. He took a few deep breaths and mentally pushed back the pain. His legs burned. Running on a more daily basis would probably be a good idea for the future.

Finally, John pushed back from the wall and roughly grabbed the woman's arm and hulled her upright. "Come on," he growled. "You're under arrest."

"Aren't you supposed to read me my rights?" the woman asked.

"Yeah, I'll get to that. Just shut up and keep moving." John shoved her through the doorway and into the nearly empty casino. A mess of angry security guards glared at him and John flashed his badge. "Sorry guys, dangerous criminal," he muttered as he passed them. Not that he was really sorry or anything.

In full lighting, up close, John found himself staring at woman in tow. He couldn't help but notice the flawless, ivory toned skin; made paler by the chocolate brown hair that framed her face. A bold black tribal looking tattoo arched around the outside of one eye. Speaking of eyes, her bold unique lilac iris held such a stunning intensity that he felt himself being drawn into them. _Snap out of it, John._

He shoved her into the back of his newly repaired car and slammed the door home before climbing into the driver's seat and shoving the thing into gear. The car skidded down the road and out of sight.

0o0o0o0

"Who is she, Sheppard?" Chief Mason eyed him with a hungry anger.

"She's a criminal," John said flatly. The Chief, six two with a bull cut, lorded over John's desk.

"Detective, I don't want some working girl taking up space in my interrogation rooms."

"I have a hunch sir," John insisted. He didn't give the other man the satisfaction of a glare. Instead, he continued to pull a stack of manila folders from his file cabinet.

"A hunch? Do enlighten me," Mason growled.

"She's a car thief, sir." John leaned back in his chair and flipped through a file.

"A car thief? We have beat cops for this." Mason looked ready to slug him. "Get her out of here." The man turned sharply to leave. John waited until he was nearly out the door before talking.

"One hundred and forty two," John drawled. Mason stopped in the doorway and sighed dramatically.

"Ok, I'll bite. One hundred what?"

"Cars," John said simply. The Chief turned slowly.

"A hundred and fifty cars?"

"The dealerships around the city and a few towns west of here have all reported cars stolen right off the lot. A hundred and forty two of the cases all had the same MO. I checked it out. Been spending a few nights camped outside the dealerships. Finally caught her in the act. Tracked her to the casino." John propped his feet up on the desk and leaned back in his chair, fixing Mason with a smug grin.

"Why haven't I heard about this earlier?" Mason demanded. John shrugged.

"You did. You gave me this crap case when it was just a few angry phone calls. That was a month ago. Bet you didn't think it'd turn into anything this big, huh?" John pushed away from the desk and gathered the files. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to the bottom of this. I have a suspect to grill."

John had to admit to himself that his little show was more for his own benefit. It felt way too good to pass up the opportunity to rub this in Mason's face. It had been far too long since John had had such a big bust. He actually felt like he was a good cop, for once.

He entered interrogation room five and sat down opposite of the car thief. She had shed her heavy black hoodie, revealing the tight leather outfit beneath. It wasn't really revealing so much as fascinating. He was willing to be that she was wearing some tacky lingerie underneath it. The woman had her arms crossed firmly across her chest and she stared at him with a steady gaze.

"Ok," John started. "Let's start with a name."

She threw him a less then polite hand gesture. John could instantly see that she wasn't going to crack. At all. He'd come face to face with a lot of criminals over the years and he knew enough to know that. At the very least, she wasn't going to just answer questions because he asked them over and over and over again, like the other detectives were known to do. He needed to get under her skin. Or play up her pride. Thieves usually carried a haughty air about them.

"How'd you pull it off?"

"Pull off what?"

"Ford dealership. You made off with some beautiful cars."

"What do you think I am?" The woman leaned forward and scowled at him.

John stared at her. "I _know_ you're a thief. And now that we're having a conversation, I want to know how good of a thief you are. How many?"

"How many what?"

"Stop playing dumb. How many cars?"

The woman slowly smiled but kept her mouth shut.

"Name?" John asked.

"You want to know how good I am? Take my finger prints and find out." She leaned back in the chair.

"We did, you didn't come up in the system," John admitted. Her smile grew.

"Exactly," she cooed.

John's pocket suddenly buzzed. He pulled out his cell phone and glanced at the screen. Then he turned back to the woman. "Ok, you don't want to talk? Fine. I have enough on you to put you away for a long while. Enough time for us to continue our talk later," John smirked. The woman's own smile dropped and her eyes narrowed. John didn't stick around. He nodded politely and gathered his files again. As he waited for the guard outside to open the door, John flipped open his phone. "Yeah?"

"_Detective, it's Agent Woolsey. We have a project we would like your help with. When can you come out here?"_

"I'm on my way, right now."

0o0o0o0

John stared at the odd fake looking object on the table. "What does it do?" he asked. Woolsey leaned against the table, arms crossed.

"We're not exactly sure. The SGC is sending down an expert on Ancients to help translate the text on the outside of the device," the man explained. The SGC, StarGate Comand, the center for alien travel. The stuff of a George Lucas movie. John frowned and looked closer at the 'device'.

"That's text? It looks like something from the back of a cereal box," John muttered. He poked at the raised symbols that spiraled around what looked like a high-tech horn of plenty.

"Yes," came a new voice. "Those are actually instructions. So please stop touching things." John sheepishly dropped his hands and turned to look at the newcomer.

"Detective, this is Dr. Daniel Jackson. Dr. Jackson, Detective Sheppard," Woolsey said. His introductions made, he nodded. "Gentlemen," he said as he ducked out the door. Dr. Jackson gave a friendly smile and stuck out his hand.

"Nice to meet you," he said. John forced a half smile onto his face.

"Yeah, it's a pleasure."

Jackson slapped his hands together and started towards the device. "Ok, let's get to work."

0o0o0o0

An hour later, John was nursing a swollen hand and helplessly in love with alien technology. The process of figuring out what it did fascinated him. John and Dr. Jackson worked tirelessly for over three hours, being joined by one of the head scientists, Dr. Zelenka. The results? The device was a prototype. It was designed to physically shrink a load of cargo with the intent of transporting more goods in less space. The device didn't actually work the way it was supposed to. John didn't know the exact science behind it but he knew that whatever happened pretty much melted the object it was trying to shrink. Not necessarily a good thing but was freakin' cool to see a three inch block of steel being reduced to a puddle of metal. What wasn't cool was that the thing was heavy. Really heavy. Heavy enough that landing on ones hand wasn't the most pleasant of sensations.

Regardless, John was happy. Happier then he'd been in a while. The realization of this made him hesitant. These things never lasted long for him. But he would go with it. If only because he didn't have anything else to do.

"Well," Jackson said, sitting heavily in his chair, "I think that's all we can really do today. Good work, gentlemen."

John collected his jacket and left the lab, rolling his neck as he walked. Good work. Yeah. Good honest work. His eyes wandered as he navigated the hallways. _Area 51 hallways_…_surreal_. John let curiosity grab him as he peered into open doors and glanced through windows. One large open room was set up much like an investigation room. Actually, it looked a heck of a lot like the police station when a serious investigation was going down. He wandered into the room, unnoticed by many busily working people. He looked closely at a wall of photos that were all interconnected with big red lines. Small notes and scraps of paper were pinned next to the photos. One of the pictures made him freeze. The all too familiar face of an eloquently beautiful brunette with lilac eyes gazed down at him.

"Sheppard? What are you doing here?" Dr. McKay stared at him from across the room. The man quickly made his way over to John.

"I was…helping Jackson and Zelenka," John said absentmindedly. "Who is that?" He pointed to the woman's picture.

"She's not your concern. You shouldn't be in here," McKay insisted.

"She _is_ my concern. I just arrested her this afternoon," John insisted right back. McKay's eyes widened.

"You're kidding…" he muttered.

"Does this have anything to do with that 'escapee situation'?" John asked.

"We think she's helping him."

"Why?"

Dr. McKay stared at him for several seconds. John fidgeted under the stare. "Ok, we could probably use the help of local police," McKay finally said. "You remember the captive Wraith we had in custody?"

John stared at him. "He escaped?!"

"Well…yes. He didn't do it alone. The other Wraith that was loose had gotten busy. He converted at least a handful of people into what we call Wraith Worshipers."

"The woman."

"Is one of the more prominent Worshipers," McKay said. He led John to a work table and handed him a thick file folder. "Her name is Astrid Harman. Expert thief."

John stared at the picture in the folder. "Astrid… Ok. We have her down at the station."

"We'll need to bring her in for questioning."

"I'll go pick her up," John offered. He barely waited for confirmation. The drive back into the city was a fast one. Picking up his suspect took longer than he wanted but he managed to get her out without any hassle from the higher-ups. When they were well into the desert, the woman actually decided to speak.

"I like your car," she said, out of the blue. John glared at her through the rearview mirror. "It's nice. New upholstery. Sounds like a new engine." She stopped and looked thoughtfully at him. "Where are you taking me?"

"A more secure facility," John snapped.

"Why?"

"I don't know, I'm not sure what kind of resources alien lovers have that would warrant this kind of attention."

Her eyes narrowed. "Enough resources to easily escape you," she hissed.

"Sure hunny, keep talking." Even as the words left his mouth, John got a very _very_ bad feeling. He was proved right in the feeling when a big angry blue ball of…something came whizzing out of the darkening desert and hit his car broadside. John swerved off the road in shock. He immediately pulled out his weapon and slammed the car into neutral. With adrenaline pumping through his system, John shoved his door open and ducked down behind it, peering around it, near the ground. Another ball of blue hissed out of nowhere. John suddenly leapt up and fired back. But then another round of blue energy came flying at him. John's eyes widened as one bout hit him square in the chest and an explosion of pins and needles spread through his body a split second before it all went dark.

0o0o0o0

Hours later, John downed a small handful of painkillers and sat moodily on somebody's desk.

"It's called a Wraith Stunner," McKay was explaining. "I hear it's quite painful.

"You think?" John groused.

"We thought we had found them all, this isn't good."

"…do you want me to say it again?" John snarked. McKay shot him an annoyed glare. "So what do we do now?" John asked.

"Well, she's gone so now we keep looking. Nothing new there. _You_ need to go home and get some rest. Stunners take a lot out of a person. But I expect you back here bright and early in the morning," McKay insisted.

"Right… See you later," John mumbled. He suddenly felt really _really _tired.

"Detective?"

John stopped mid stride and turned back to the scientist. "Yeah?"

"Good work out there,"

John blinked. "Thanks."

"No problem. See you in the morning."

John kept on walking. When was the last time someone said _that_ to him? Far too long ago.

Huh. All in all, a good day. Bad guys caught. Cool stuff discovered. Chunks of metal melted. Bad guys escaping… Ok, maybe not the best of days. But it certainly wasn't the worst. Nope. Not by a long shot.

Not by a long shot…

**Fin.**


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